I Can't Bring Myself To Say This Is The End
by caseycoop
Summary: "Then tell me that this is a joke, tell me that it's the angle of the camera." She hadn't noticed that he had been holding his cell phone until it was shoved at her. Glancing down, hazel eyes paled in realization.  *Puck finding out Rachel cheated on him*
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_I Can't Bring Myself to Say This Is the End_

**Prompt: **_Puck finding out Rachel cheated on him_

**Characters: **_Rachel Berry & Noah (Puck) Puckerman_

**((XX))**

**Originally written for a p/r drabble meme on livejournal, under the username _carnivaldreams_**

**All I own is the storyline._  
_**

**((XX))**

Rachel slumped against the wall of the trembling elevator as it slowly crept towards the third floor of the old apartment building. One glance at her watch confirmed that it was close to one in the morning, and she failed to suppress a yawn.

She was tired. She was tired of auditioning for show after show after show, failing to receive a part every single time. She was tired of working day after day in a tourist popular diner, just so the bills could be paid and food could be bought. She was just tired.

As she walked down the hallway, grateful that the elevator hadn't broken down (again) trapping her in (again), she listened to the sounds of late night Friday. A television playing late night infomercials, a couple arguing the floor above her, the squeaky bedsprings of another couple on her floor, a baby's screams coming from somewhere in the five floor building.

She stopped outside her front door, noting the silence behind it as she fumbled in her handbag for the key ring. Noah had to work in the morning; he was probably passed out in their bed by now.

She was twenty five years old. A decade ago, when she had been the doe-eyed wilful leader of McKinley High's Glee Club she had a plan; high school, college, New York City, the Great White Way. She had never stopped to consider what would happen if the last point in her four-point plan to stardom never materialized.

Slipping through the front door, dead bolting it behind her, she dumped her handbag on the small table next to the door and kicked off her shoes. She wanted to curl up into bed next to Noah, and forget that this week even happened.

Turning on the overhead light for the small kitchenette, she looked up and jumped; the sight of Noah himself sitting on the couch, half obscured by the shadows of the night startling her.

"What are you still doing awake?" After she calmed herself down, she continued in her midnight routine; fixing herself a quick snack and pouring herself a glass of water to take to bed. "Don't you have work in the morning?"

"Do I make you happy Rachel?" He joined her in the kitchen, his voice low. "Don't I try to give you everything you want?"

"Of course you do." Rachel rubbed her hands up his arms, "What's going on Noah?"

"Do you love me Rach?" He hated how…pansy he sounded at the moment; but he couldn't help it. "I love you so fucking much, do you love me?"

"Of course I do." She reached up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his. "You know I do."

"You want to marry me, you don't feel obligated to or something?"

Her right hand brushed over the small engagement ring on her left hand; she didn't understand the interrogation. "Of course I want to marry you Noah. What is this all about?"

"Then tell me that this is a joke, tell me that it's the angle of the camera." She hadn't noticed that he had been holding his cell phone until it was shoved at her. Glancing down, hazel eyes paled in realization.

"No…Noah…" She stuttered, looking back at him in a hurry. He had taken a step back distancing himself from her. He looked disgusted.

"Tell me it's a joke." He repeated; more force in his words this time.

"I…I…" Rachel stuttered again, what could she say to comfort her fiancé when the proof of her infidelity was staring them in the face?

She watched as Noah closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Noah Puckerman had created a shield when they were only teenagers, in the form of Puck. Never show emotion, never show weakness, never get hurt.

Rachel Berry had been the first and only person, outside his mother and sister to see Noah.

And she would be the one to break him.

He wanted to hit something, he wanted to break something. He opened his eyes again, the image of _his _Rachel making out with another guy in the middle of a crowded Manhattan street, in the middle of the day, burned into his memory.

He had been staring at the image since a friend had sent him the picture message, with the attached text _I thought you should know._

He had spent hours staring at it, trying to think of a logical, sensible explanation for it; one that didn't involve Rachel cheating on him.

He couldn't.

"Please, Noah..."

Unable to control himself, he picked up the first thing he could reach; the empty glass Rachel had pulled out of the cabinet when she first got home and flung it at the wall.

Rachel flinched as the shards of glass fell to the floor.

"It wasn't, I can..." Rachel's voice wavered as she tried to explain away the photo.

"I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses." His voice was harsh and unforgiving. "Do you remember right when we first got together? You were so insecure that I would get tired of you, that I would go back to sleeping around, that I would leave you?"

Rachel's eyes were quickly filling with tears that she refused to let fall. She wasn't the victim this time; she had actually been the one to hurt someone else. She nodded.

"When you're alone in our bed, remember you're the one that made me leave. That it was you screwed this up."

"Please don't leave, Noah." The first full sentence she had been able to form, it came out as a strangled whisper.

He ignored her, grabbing the duffel bag he had thrown together earlier off the couch.

She beat him to the front door, her petite frame blocking his exit. "Move, Rachel." He growled. She didn't budge.

"You haven't let me speak." The words were coming easier now that she was threatened with the reality that Noah was leaving. She put her palms on his chest, hoping that her gentle touch would calm him down somehow. "It's the middle of the night Noah, you can't go anywhere like this. Not now."

"If you're going to say that it wasn't what it looked like; that's a lie, and we both know it." He glared down at her. "I can't get that fucking photo out of my head. I've stared at it, trying to find another explanation for it. There is none. Now move."

Rachel shook her head again. She was stubborn, and she wasn't going to let him just walk out of them that easily.

Noah was stronger though. He didn't want to physically hurt her, but it was easy to lift her out of the way.

"Noah..." Rachel cried out again, falling to the floor as the wood door slammed shut.

**#**

Throwing a couple of green bills towards the driver, Puck climbed out of the taxi. He hadn't known what he was going to do when he stormed out of the apartment, he had been too busy thinking of other things; but it hadn't taken him long to decide.

There was no effing way he was staying in the city, not when he had spent the last six years here starting his life with Rachel. He didn't really want to go back to Ohio, back to Lima; but right now there was no other choice.

Anyway, he'd only be there long enough to work out what he was going to do next.

**#**

Rachel didn't fall into bed until after the sun had broken over the New York skyline. After making sure that every glass fragment had been cleaned up, she had taken refuge on the couch, waiting and hoping that Noah would walk back through the door at any second.

Hoping that she hadn't completely screwed up their relationship.

She fell into bed, saturating her pillows as the tears continued to fall; the smell of Noah clinging to the sheets.

She had called into work sick; with a stuffed up nose and hoarse throat from crying all night she had sounded convincing. She sat on the couch all day, wrapped up in her robe, staring listlessly at the ring that still adorned her left ring finger.

She wasn't going to take it off, because taking it off meant that they were over. She wasn't going to accept that.

When her cell phone rang she had almost ignored it, except for the miniscule possibility that it was Noah. It was a Puckerman, but it was Noah's sister Rebecca.

"I can't really talk at the moment Bec." Rachel tried to sound okay as she answered the phone.

"What the hell happened between you two?" Rebecca hissed. "Noah just showed up at the front door, didn't say two words to me or mom and then locked himself in his bedroom."

"He's in Lima?" She figured that was the last place he would want to be.

"He's twenty six Rachel. He's not meant to show up and act like a moody teenager."

"It's nothing Bec, we...we had an argument. Listen; don't tell him you called me okay. I'll be there as soon as I can."

**#**

He _hated _his childhood bedroom. He wasn't Noah in here, he was Puck. He was the reckless teenager who impregnated his best friend's girlfriend, he was the boy who slept his way through the female population of Lima, he was the boy who had slushied Rachel every day.

"Noah?" He heard his mother through the door; she had been standing outside the locked door for the last five minutes trying to work out if she should say something. "Noah, honey, do you want to talk?

He scoffed, it was an involuntary action; a reflex. "No." He called back simply. "Honey, you and Rachel..." She tapered off. She loved Rachel, the tiny singing diva had tamed her son, had seen him when others had turned their backs to him, had made him want to become someone of himself. She didn't want to think what had happened in New York. She didn't want to even entertain the idea that the wedding was off.

Instead, Abigail Puckerman headed back down the stairs; leaving her brooding son in peace. She glanced at her seventeen year old daughter who merely shrugged her shoulders; she had gotten absolutely nothing useful from Rachel.

**#**

She had grumbled handing over the credit card at the ticket counter at JFK airport; the five hundred dollars for her ticket, plus whatever Noah had charged on it was going to push the card to its limit.

And when the plane had finally made it into the air, time had stalled; making the two and a half hour flight as long and torturous as possible.

Behind her, a family of four were returning back to the Midwest state after a holiday in New York City. After twenty minutes of listening to the little boy jump up and down, blabbering about their weeklong trip she had slipped her earphones on blocking him out.

She hadn't meant to kiss Jesse St. James. She hadn't meant anything by it. It was his stupid smile, and the playful glint in his eye.

She hadn't seen him in years; not since he had returned to Lima in her junior year of high school, just after she had started seeing Noah, to help coach Vocal Adrenaline for sectionals. (She had made sure he knew who the superior team really was.)

He had kissed her first, and she couldn't think of a reason why she had returned the kiss; why she hadn't pushed him away and kicked him where it hurt. She slumped back in her seat.

Of course Noah hated her, she hated herself.

**#**

"You must be starving Noah." Abigail Puckerman was back at the door to her son's bedroom. "I made you a sandwich."

He didn't budge.

"I'm not going to make you talk Noah." She called out again. "I just want you to eat."

He unlocked the door, taking the plate that his mother was holding. Cold cuts sandwich and a bag of crisps.

"When you're ready to talk, I'm just downstairs." She narrowly avoided her face getting hit as the door slammed shut again.

**#**

If the two and a half hour flight didn't kill her, the two and a half hours that followed almost did. Speeding down the highway between Cincinnati and Lima in the rental car, her mind had played through every situation that she faced when she arrived at the Puckerman family home.

_He would listen to her rationally. _She choked out a bitter laugh at the best-case scenario. Noah Puckerman was not a rational man.

_He would ignore her while she talked _

_He would yell at her. _She wouldn't mind the yelling; at least it meant he hadn't shut her out.

_He would kick her out_

_He would call off the engagement_

She tried not to think about what would happen if their engagement was called off; how she would continue going on without Noah in her life. Since she was sixteen, every time she had thought about the future she had seen Noah in it. Without him it would be a miserable and bleak existence.

Her mind lingered between the last two scenarios for longer than she cared. If he kicked her out, she would either have to find a cheap hotel or she would have to go back home to her fathers.

Going back to her fathers, would mean having to admit that she and Noah were fighting, and it would end in their bitter disappointment in her lack of morals.

Turning into the familiar streets leading to the Puckerman home, Rachel turned off the radio; preferring the silence as she thought. She was going to go into the house, and she was going to beg for a second chance.

It wasn't often that Rachel Berry had to beg.

Pulling into the driveway behind Abigail's car, she cut the engine; sitting in the fading afternoon light. Climbing out of the car, she saw Abigail Puckerman emerge from the front door; a large smile on her face as she spotted Rachel.

This just made the brunette feel worse about herself; if she was smiling like that it meant that Noah hadn't told his mother or sister what had happened yet.

"Hi Abigail." Rachel forced a thin smile. "Is Noah here?"

"He locked himself in his bedroom earlier, he hasn't come out since. Rachel honey, what happened?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Abigail Puckerman might be a pushy woman, but even she knew better than to get right in the middle of something between her son and his fiancée; they were both temperamental, feisty people.

Taking the steps two at a time Rachel knocked confidently on the locked door.

"I don't want to talk." Noah called back, through clenched teeth. He couldn't understand why his mother and sister wouldn't just leave him alone.

"Noah," Rachel leaned a cheek against the door. "Just let me in. Please."

Nothing happened.

"I'm not leaving Noah. I'm going to sit against this door until you come out. You _have _to come out at _some _point." How would Abigail and Rebecca react if they come up the stairs to discover Rachel sprawled out in the hallway?

Thankfully, she heard the unmistakable sound of the lock click open. Pushing her way through the door she smiled at Noah who was already lying back on his bed.

"It was a mistake." Rachel lowered herself down onto the bed. "It was temporary insanity." She was whispering in case there were people listening in on the other side. "I never wanted to hurt you. I love you so much Noah."

"This isn't a problem you can fix just by apologising Rachel." Well, at least he wasn't yelling at her; or kicking her out. "This isn't the time you forgot to pay the electric bill on time, or the time you forgot the beer. You kissed another man."

Despite the fact that Noah was deadly serious, Rachel cracked a smile and a small giggle. They had spent several nights without any electricity in their apartment, a year after they'd moved together to the city because she had left the cheque sitting on the kitchen counter.

The beer hadn't been a complete accident.

At least she got him to crack a smile, even if it was for a fleeting moment; the sound of her giggle breaking through the wall.

She smiled at him softly as he frowned again; their moment over.

**#**

In the silence that followed, Rachel climbed off the bed and slowly walked through the room; stopping at the empty dresser to pick up a photo frame that had been left behind.

"This was a great night." She smiled again. She was going to pull him down memory lane, whether he liked it or not.

She handed over the frame, even though he already knew what the photo was. Just before Noah's graduation, when the original Glee club would be broken up; they had snuck onto the school's football field.

Rachel and Noah had been sitting on the bleachers, Rachel sitting between his legs and she had been playing with his hand while he had whispered something in her ear.

Both of them had these content smiles on their faces and they were completely oblivious to the fact that Kurt had his camera pointed at the two of them.

"It was." He agreed softly.

They fell into the silent lapse again; before Noah finally asked the question Rachel had been dreading.

"Who was it?" He looked straight up to meet her gaze, to which she shied away from.

"No...Nobody..." She shook her head, lying unconvincingly.

"Bullshit Rachel. That's fucking bullshit. Who _was _it?" The harsh Noah was back, and he climbed off the bed so he had the height advantage.

Rachel mumbled incoherently, telling him would undoubtedly ruin them further.

He pulled his phone off the bedside table, pulling up the incriminating evidence; thrusting it towards her. "Do you need a reminder? It was obviously someone. Who the fuck was it?"

Rachel bowed her head. "It was Jesse." She whispered.

The sound of glass smashing filled the room (again), and she didn't have to look up to know that the photo she'd picked up earlier would now being lying on the floor; its protective covering broken. Rachel jumped at the sound.

"What Rachel? Were you planning on screwing your way to getting a job?"

Her voice caught at the accusation. She had always considered integrity as an important virtue in life; she had always wanted to be recognised for her talent alone.

But somewhere deep, deep down in her desperation, before she'd come to her sense and pulled away, she had wondered how far she'd let it go. She would never admit that to anyone.

She had been disgusted in herself then, and even more so now.

"Get out." It was a calm, deadly whisper and Rachel automatically took two steps backwards. At the same time the bedroom flung open as Abigail appeared panicked, Rebecca two steps behind her.

"What's going on in here? We heard something smash."

"Get out." Noah repeated; the growl back in his voice. Rachel took another two steps back, reaching out to steady herself on the doorframe.

"Noah..." Abigail interrupted them again. "Whatever's going on between the two of you can be worked out. You and Rachel love each other..."

"Then ask her what she's doing making out with her exes in public in the middle of the day."

Rachel flung around to face the door, keeping her head bowed so she didn't have to look anyone in the eye. "I'm...I'm sorry. I'm leaving now." Then she raced as fast as she could down the stairs and out the door.

**#**

Noah glared at his mother, daring her to say something. Tactfully, she remained silent, pulling Rebecca behind her as she closed the door again.

He ran his fingers over his shaved head, the Mohawk a thing of the past; calming himself down again.

Grabbing his cell phone, he finally left the room; following the same path Rachel had taken as she left the house. He was getting his boys together, and then he was getting smashed.

**# #**

Rachel sat in the rental car again, staring at the small house nestled deep in the suburbs of Lima; the small tricycle abandoned on the lawn and the white picket fence that surrounded the property finishing the image of Midwest America.

She had crossed out the possibility of renting a hotel room; she couldn't spend a night alone with her thoughts in a cheap hotel room, where it was more than likely she'd spend the night listening to a live porno going on in the next room.

Going to her fathers' was a last resort; she couldn't handle their disappointment as well.

That left sleeping in the car, or turning to Quinn Fabray-Rutherford.

"Are you going to come in or spend the night in my driveway?" Rachel had been so wrapped up in her self-misery that she hadn't noticed Quinn emerge from the house until she was pulling the driver side door open. "You were starting to freak me out Berry." The blonde smiled warmly. "What are you doing in Ohio anyway?"

So Rachel told Quinn everything as they walked up the path to the house and as Quinn made them both a cup of tea. Quinn nodded and listened, and never passed judgement because Rachel hadn't been the first one to stuff up a relationship this way.

"Puck isn't going to hate you forever." Quinn comforted after Rachel finished. "He loves you too much to ignore you forever, just give him some time."

Rachel nodded, unsure of the optimism in Quinn's words. She hadn't seen him.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here." Quinn jumped up again. "Jack's at Matt's mothers; so I'm free for the night. We'll go get a drink and we can catch up properly."

Quinn was not going to let her friend mope around her house all night.

**#**

Finn eyed Puck wearily; they'd been at the bar for half an hour and he was already onto his third beer for the night.

"Dude, maybe you want to slow down, just a little." Finn advised, wondering how pissed Puck would get if he cut him off.

"She kissed that St. James douche." He grumbled. "In the middle of the day she made out with him for all of New York to see."

Finn was at a loss for words, it _really _didn't sound like the Rachel he knew.

"Maybe..."

"She admitted it." Puck shot him down, ordering another beer. "Don't try defending her."

**#**

There weren't too many places to drink in Lima, which is how Rachel and Noah ended up in the same bar; Noah at the counter and Rachel in a back booth, ushered there by Quinn before she could realise who else was in the room.

"I'll be right back." Rachel promised Quinn after her third glass of wine. "I just need the bathroom." She slipped out of her seat. She was certain that by now she would look like a complete mess, and she needed to clean herself up.

Noah looked up as the familiar scent brushed past him, as Rachel disappeared down the halls to the toilets.

Pushing back his beer, (fourth, fifth? He'd lost count), he took off after her; not saying a single word to Finn.

Grabbing her arm before she could disappear into the ladies, he pushed her up against a wall.

"Wh...What..." She panicked before realisation set in.

"I loved you Rachel." With both hands on either side of her body, he trapped her. He pushed himself up against her so there was no space between them. "I love you Rachel."

"So do I, Noah I love you so much."

"Then why did you have to screw this up?"

Rachel shook her head; she still had no answer for that.

"Did he have something that I don't? Did he make you feel something that I can't?"

Rachel shook her head again. Taking advantage of their positions, she reached up to kiss him. She needed that contact; she needed it to prove something to him.

He pulled away.

"Noah, please, I'll do anything. Anything." She reached up to kiss him again, snaking her arms around his neck so he couldn't break away again. She tried to ignore the overwhelming stench of beer on his breath.

"No one is ever going to love you like I do." He growled, pushing her back into the wall as he delivered a bruising kiss; biting down on her lower lip. "No one is ever going to understand you like I do."

Rachel nodded, silently agreeing with him.

"No one else is ever going to put up with your crazy shit Rachel."

"No one," She echoed, moaning as he kissed her again, grinding himself into her.

**((XX))**

_**I'm going to leave it there for now I think. Nothing is fixed between them yet, and I'm thinking of making this a two or three part fic.**_

_**Thoughts?**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Word Count/Rating: **2,411words/T

_I thought I was going to drive myself crazy before I finished this chapter, and hopefully it makes sense because I've lost track of how many times it's been edited._

_Hope you all enjoy xx_

**((XX))**

"_Nooo…Nooaah…" Rachel moaned out, struggling to form words as he pushed her further up the bar wall as he focused on the spot of flesh between her neck and shoulder. "Not…Not here…" She struggled to find a grip against the wall as she melted underneath Puck._

_Moving from her collarbone, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily as he thought. Without a word, he grabbed hold of her hand, dragging her towards the doors._

Why had Rachel let herself believe that after the bar; where Noah had made it explicitly clear that he loved her, and that he would be the only one to ever love her like she needed, while delivering bruising kisses to her lips, neck & collarbone, that she would wake up to next to him in bed?

That she would wake up next to him in bed, and the last day would just be this horrendous nightmare that would be pushed back to the furthest corner of their memories?

Because she was still the same overly optimistic person she'd been in high school, the same person who always believed that everything would turn out her way; and she read too many romantic novels in her free times at auditions and the diner.

_Rachel stumbled backwards, the back of her knees hitting the side of the bed before she fell backwards on it. Reaching up, needing the contact she had earlier, she tugged on his shirt; swiftly pulling it up and over his head._

"_It's…it's always been you Noah," Rachel breathed into his skin. "I love you, and I don't want you to leave."_

"_Love you too." He groaned out, fisting her hair in his hands as he captured her lips again._

She had woken up in the morning, with the barest of headaches, in the childhood bedroom of Noah Puckerman, with the man in question notably absent. Remembering the night before, she threw on the same clothes she'd been wearing yesterday, and stumbled downstairs in search of coffee and hopefully her fiancé.

"Noah left an hour ago," Bec apologised as Rachel came in the kitchen, her hazel eyes full of hope. She handed over the coffee she'd just brewed. "He…he also said that you had to go back home." It pained the teenager to deliver that message to the girl she had long considered a sister.

"Did…did he say anything else?" Did she still have a wedding to plan? Did she have to find a new apartment to live in? Would he be coming home anytime soon? She hated the thought of having to return to their apartment alone.

Bec shook her head again, feeling sympathy for the broken look on Rachel's face. It was clear she had stuffed up, in the worst way possible; but she was trying desperately to fix it.

"When…when he comes back, can you tell him that I love him and that he needs to come home so we can work this out?" _One way or another._

"Of course."

**#**

Too coward to face nine years of memories alone straight away, Rachel vetoed heading back to the apartment in favour of her favourite coffee shop, and while she was waiting for her latte, she messaged Santana to come and meet her.

"You did _what_?" The Latina girl hissed, an unbelieving smirk crossing her face as she watched her friend bury her head in her hands.

Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry hadn't always been friends; Rachel couldn't always hide her insecurities and when her boyfriend had such a close friendship with the girl he used to fuck on a regular basis, she had trouble accepting that it was now a completely platonic friendship.

Then they all ended up in New York City, and the two girls stated spending more and more time together. Now she couldn't think of who else she would be able to talk to.

"I know," Rachel groaned.

"You're a fucking idiot, Rach."

"I know."

They sat there in silence for a couple more minutes, Rachel's face buried deep in her hands.

"Seriously Rachel? _St. James_? The same idiot from Vocal Adrenaline, who egged you? What the fuck possessed you?" She could deal with the idea that Rachel kissed someone else, she'd done it herself so couldn't lay blame; it was also smugly satisfying knowing the diva wasn't the image of perfection. She was just having difficulty with the idea that it was Jesse St. James.

"Stop reminding me," Rachel cried out again. Santana smirked.

Santana left after the last of their coffee's had been drained, telling her friend to _just go home_. Noah would be back sooner or later.

**#**

Unlocking the front door, she tried to block out the last time she had walked through the door. She tried to tell herself that it didn't bother her as much as it did noticing the stray pair of Noah's boots lying by the front door.

As she moved into the bedroom, where his dirty clothes lay mixed in with hers in the laundry hamper and where his smell still lingered on the bed sheets, she collapsed against the mattress, pulling his pillow over her face.

None of this was okay, and if she couldn't fix the situation, she was never going to be able to forgive herself.

**#**

Puck apparently enjoyed torturing himself, he realised, as he wound up at the bleachers at McKinley High; his fingers gripped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle.

He didn't want to think what had happened the night before had been a mistake; even though he had no intention of speaking to Rachel after he kicked her out of his house. He had just needed space to process everything.

Then she had passed him, her vanilla scent breaking through the stale smell of the bar; and it had engulfed him and all he could think about was her soft skin underneath his calloused hands, her sweet voice moaning his name in ecstasy. It hadn't taken much to get him to react.

Sending her away was the best thing to do, he reassured himself; taking a swig of his beer as he sat down. He was still too angry to think rationally, and he wasn't about to do anything that he was going to quickly regret.

**#**

Four weeks. It had been four weeks since Rachel left Noah's bed. A month since he told her to _go home._ A month since she screwed her entire life in a matter of fifteen seconds that she's regretted every single second since then.

She thinks it's been the longest month in history, and at this point she'd do anything for a simple text message.

Every call to his cell phone went directly to voicemail. Every call to the Puckerman house in answered with a soft _soon, Rachel; _every call to every single Ohio friend is answered with a resounding _he's not here._

Her engagement ring is still on her finger, Noah's favourite beer is still stocked in the fridge; and all of his recently washed laundry has been ironed, folded and carefully put away.

To an outsider, it looks like he's going to walk through the door at any second.

Santana calls her stubborn, and she tries to keep silent on her fears that her friend is going into denial.

The two of them are relaxing at the coffee shop, when two girls their age sit down next to them, giggling over a wedding magazine. Rachel breaks down _again_. She can't live in this limbo world anymore. She _needs _her fiancé back, or she needs to know that she has to somehow start her life over again.

**#**

A month. It's the longest Puck's gone without seeing/talking to Rachel since they finally got their act together back in high school.

They fight all the time, but normally he goes and gets drunk, before collapsing on the couch. They fight, she'll throw his things at him and he'll make some obscene remarks before they ended up in bed again.

Even their worst fight before this had just ended with him getting drunk.

He didn't want to ignore her anymore. He didn't want to be hiding away in his childhood bedroom in the middle of Ohio.

Puck wouldn't admit this openly, but since he got serious with Rachel; for the first time in his life he began imagining his future. He wanted the children and the home that Rachel talked about. He wanted Rachel Berry to become Rachel Puckerman. He _wanted _the picture he'd painted in his head; he _still _wanted that picture.

That she'd let him paint.

He wanted to hate her for what she did. He thought he would never want to see her again after that type of betrayal.

But he doesn't.

It's her smile and its infectious laugh, and the way her eyes light up when she gets excited over something; even if it's trivial. It's the way that she can talk forever and hold a conversation, even though he tuned her out half an hour ago.

It's the way that she can still go into an audition with the optimism that this time she'll land a part, even after six years of constant disappointment.

He's tried to, he tried to hate his fiancée for kissing another man, an ex-boyfriend, _Jesse St. James_; but that image that used to be burned into the back of his eyelids, waiting for him every time he closed his eyes has been replaced by Rachel spread out on their couch, wearing one of his old shirts, giggling hysterically and squirming underneath him while he tickled her.

Because everyone knows 95% of tickle wars end with sex. (Which he'd pointed out to Santana when she announced him whipped after Rachel _accidently _let the story slip.)

He doesn't want to be hiding in his childhood bedroom in Ohio. He wants to be back in New York City with Rachel curled up next to him.

Because despite everything, he still loves her.

**#**

Abigail Puckerman literally started sobbing when her son emerged from his locked bedroom; duffel bag slung over his shoulder and asked for a lift to the airport.

"Rachel is a good girl, Noah." She reminds him as she pulls up to the drop off zone outside departures.

"I know." He grumbles, because he's listened to the woman ramble on about him and Rachel and second chances the entire ride. "I'll talk to you later, ma." He jumped out the car as it slowly came to a stop.

**#**

Rachel's stuck at the diner on the afternoon shift, and the place is almost deserted now that the lunch rush has died away; and she's absent-mindedly flipping through the newspaper.

"Rachel Berry." The voice she hears isn't a voice she wants to hear, and her hazel eyes narrow as she looks up.

"What are you doing here, Jesse?" She grumbles. "I don't really want to see you. I never want to see you again."

He tsk-ed, laughing lightly, as if it were a joke. "Now that's not nice. I come here bringing you good news and you just throw me away like nothing's happened."

"Go away Jesse," Rachel sighed tiredly. "I don't want to know your news; I just want you to _leave_."

He laughed again. "I got you an audition," he announced it like it would change anything.

She supressed the urge to do an eye-roll, barely. "I don't need your help to get auditions. I get them all the time."

"A private audition, it will just be you and the director."

Rachel paused, lost for words for a minute. "I…I can't do that." She managed to get out. "I can't accept that."

"Why not Rachel? You were the one always talking about your future as Broadway. I'm offering that to you…"

_Because_, Rachel knew that if she accepted his offer; she might as well have screwed her way into getting the job, and she'd be in his debt.

Rachel shook her head again, set on refusing his job. If she was going to make it on Broadway, she was going to make it without the assistance of Jesse St. James.

"Jesse, I _need _you to _leave_."

He didn't move, but he continued to stare at her, like she was a difficult puzzle that he needed to figure out.

"You're screwing up my life Jesse."

"You've changed Rachel. You used to be career-driven, you used to be ambitious. The old you would have jumped at the chance of a _private _audition for _Broadway_."

Rachel's eyes narrowed again, and she regarded him harshly; seriously considering just throwing him out herself.

"I have not changed." She hissed at him. "_When _I get a job on Broadway, it's going to be because I was talented and the best choice. It's not going to be because I made a _horrible mistake _by kissing their star and I'm not going to lose my fiancé because of it. I need you to _leave_."

"Rachel…"

"I believe she told you to leave." Rachel jumped at the new voice in the conversation, looking up.

"Noah…" She breathed out, excited he'd come back, relieved he was here.

Jesse stood up, recognising the growl in Puck's voice. He didn't want to risk getting into a fist fight with Noah Puckerman; he couldn't go on stage every night if his ribs were cracked and his face black and blue.

"Just think about it Rachel, the offer isn't going to last long." But he couldn't help get in the parting remark before he disappeared out the door.

As Rachel stood there silently, behind the counter, staring up at Noah; she was aware of the other waitress on the shift, sitting at the other end of the counter, enjoying the scene playing out in front of her.

"Hi," Rachel smiled softly. She couldn't think of anything else to say, despite all the times she'd imagined his return in the last month. He quirked an eyebrow. "You came back."

Puck nodded.

"For good?"

"C'mere."

She didn't need any encouragement after that, she ran straight around the counter, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"I'm sorry."

Two muscled arms wrapped tightly around her petite frame, and he bent his head down to kiss her cheek softly.

"You're something, Rach; couldn't keep away from you."

"We're going to be okay, right?" Rachel murmured; her face buried deep in his chest.

"We'll work it out." He promised; his head nuzzled in her hair. "It'll work out."

**((XX))**


End file.
